Ella and Christian: The story of a mother unable to protect her son
by virgie90
Summary: Warning:Graphic Themes.Ella is a young mom with a young son named Christian. He's a cute little boy. They live in a horrid apartment where she sells her body to men for money, drugs, alcohol. She's controlled by an abusive man named Terry who also abuses her son. Christian is horribly abused by Terry and other men, his mother failing to protect him and him wanting to protect her...
1. Chapter 1

My eyes flutter open to the sound of the tv humming. It's early, too early and my body aches from the night before. I look around and see a small boy with a mop of hair plopped down on the dirty green carpet. The television is tuned to one of his favorite shows; Sesame Street. I blink and half smile as he turns to look at me, making sure I'm not bothered by the noise or lights. I sit up on the couch, sinking my feet into the carpet as I do. Damn, this place is filthy, but we're lucky to be here, to have a roof over our heads.

I close my eyes a moment as a bright, colorful yellow bird appears on the screen; his name is Big Bird I think. Too many long nights, too many drugs, too much alcohol, too many men. I wipe the thought away from my head as I walk to the fridge, opening it to find not much in there, a little milk, if it isn't expired I'll let Christian have it with the last of the cereal. He's so small for a boy his age.

I walk back to the bedroom to find something to wear, and find clothes strewn all over the floor, the bed, on the radiator that doesn't work. Christian slept in here last night, how unusual. He doesn't like to sleep by himself and will usually follow me to the couch or when I'm not home he'll head just a few doors down in our apartment to Old Lady Pat, she's very sweet. Poor, like us, but she makes due just fine on her own.

I pull on a pair of fitted jeans and a semi-clean t shirt, at least I hope it's clean. I walk back into the room and smile at Christian as he's glued to the television, talking along with the creepy vampire guy that's counting.

"One…..two….free…" aside from saying three wrong, he's very smart, and I beam with pride.

He momentarily glances in my direction as I get him out a bowl and fill it with Cap'n Crunch cereal and the last of the milk and smile at him as I place it on the table. He quickly runs over and scoots into a chair and props himself up on his knees to eat and still see the tv.

"You hungry Mommy?" Christian looks guilty at the food as I sit in a chair next to him with nothing in front of me.

"No honey, I ate already, eat up." I stroke his unruly mop of copper colored hair and he smiles and digs in.

I frown, this is the life we live in Detroit, Michigan. I'm a low time prostitute with a drug habit with a little boy that gets abused and beaten by my "boyfriend" as I call him in front of Christian. Terry is really not so bad, as long as I pay him everything I made and share the drugs with him. I shudder at the thought of him coming by today, I got stiffed on money and the drugs, too. Terry will probably fuck him up later too, after me, of course….after Christian...that's how he really controls me. He beats Christian 9 ways to Sunday and I sit back and watch, stepping in makes it worse, that's when he burns him with the lit cigarettes. Last time I tried to stop that he burned him twice and cut my arm and hair with a dull pocket knife. Christian tries to stay out of his way, and I try to hide him at Old Lady Pat's place, but she couldn't protect herself if Terry was in a tirade and wanted to hurt Christian.

"Ella," she tells me, "You need to leave, leave Terry, Detroit, Michigan all together and get a real life and career for yourself and your little boy. You can't be smoking dope and shooting up drugs all the time and sleeping with nasty men just to make a few dollars." Even for 78 years old she really knows how to tell it how she sees it.

Even though Old Lady Pat is right, she's wrong. We couldn't leave even if we tried, we have no money, no car, no idea where else to go, and I have little education. My mom died when I was young, dad was a drunk and I left at 15, traveling from Cleveland, Ohio on a bus. I was pretty excited to be on my own, at first. I got a job at a local diner as a waitress, making scraps but it was a living and I did it all on my own. I had my own apartment, the bus went to and from my work. Things were looking up.

I remember the day though, I'd had a boyfriend, wonderful guy really, Jake. He was killed in a drug deal gone bad, I didn't even know he did drugs, I'd never tried them. Eventually things went from bad, to worse, I had a hard time making rent, my job didn't want to pay me more, but I stuck it out. I met Terry a few days after I was kicked out of my apartment and living in an alley behind the diner. He offered me a job, and at the time he made it sound like it was the best thing in the world. I could party, I could stay up late, hang out and make a damn good wage, as long as I worked for him and did what he said.

I quickly found cocaine, and lots of alcohol. I mainly used to numb the pain of doing what I was doing, but I was just happy to have a place to live, and some money to use. Eventually a couple years later I found out I was pregnant, I don't know who the father was, but I tried to kick the habit. Terry didn't like that but didn't want to totally fuck up the kid and lose me. At first it was hard, he was born addicted to drugs and alcohol, but soon was better. I could no longer stand on the streets to attract men, Terry had to bring them by the apartment instead so I wouldn't have to spend his money on a babysitter.

I slip out of my thoughts when I hear a knock on the door and shudder to think it's Terry, but then again he doesn't knock he just crashes in. Christian stills, terror etching on his face and a fight or flight response making him look itchy to go. I look at him and he stills, still clenched but relaxing more as he realizes too, that it isn't Terry.

I open the door and smile to see it's Old Lady Pat. She's come to pay Christian a visit. I let her in and give her a wide berth so she doesn't trip on the carpet with her cane. A small wrapped package is in her hand.

"Christian, Pat is here to see you." He looks over and waves, then devours the rest of his bowl.

"Ella, I tried to call, but it seems your phone is out again. I guess Terry isn't paying for your necessary equipment anymore is he." She scowls at me and I give her a guilty smile in response.

"I just wanted to stop by and see Christian before I go off to California for my grand daughter's wedding. I'll be gone for a while, and I don't know if I'll be able to make it to his birthday or not."

Old Lady Pat holds out a package, and Christian eyes is suspiciously. I frown in disgust at myself, I haven't been able to give him things he needs like new shoes, new clothes or things he wants like toys, books, ice cream. My heart aches with horrible guilt at myself for being a horrible mother. I blink away the tears before Christian can see.

His eyes light up with absolute joy when he opens his present to find a new toy car, he rushes out of the room to grab another one and looks up so happily at us both.

"Now I have two cars! They can race and go fast!" He beams and we beam back at him.

"Now, thank Pat and go play for a minute while we talk." He stops, looking confused and flustered that he might have forgotten manners and thanks her very sweetly and runs off to play in front of the television.

Pat turns to me with a look on her face that I can't quite place. "It seems about time that boy had a bath, Ella. Also, you look like you could use one yourself." I blush at her and she smiles, "But having children is messy and time flies by before you know what to do with it." She looks kindly and strict, not wanting to make me feel uncomfortable about myself. She turns to go, and pulls me in tight for a hug, holding my hand and not letting go until I notice she's handed me $50. I gape at her in shock.

"Pat, I can't, I-" She holds up her hand to stop me and points to Christian.

"You most certainly can, that boy needs feeding and some proper clothes. So use it and don't let it get into the wrong hands or I'll lay my cane on you. Understood?" She stares at me very serious, but I know she says it with love for us. I nod, holding back tears of gratefulness. She smiles and without waiting for me to reply she shuts the door behind her.

I turn to Christian, who is still planted on the floor playing with his car. I wipe away the tears flowing to my cheeks and take a deep steadying breath.

"Christian sweetie, would you like to go shopping with mommy?" The thought of ice cream crosses my mind, but I don't bring it up so I won't disappoint him if we can't afford it.

He turns and eyes light up like Christmas. He holds up his car without having to ask, I nod that he can take his car with us.

We climb off the bus carefully not to spill our bags full of food and Christian's old pair of shoes, he's wearing a new pair that we got on sale, they aren't the best looking, but they fit his feet and have a little room for him to grow. He can't stop looking at his feet as one side lights up; the other doesn't and it makes me realize why they were on sale. I check how much money is left and to my surprise we have enough left to get him an ice cream. At the parlor across the street that he always stares at in hope he orders a strawberry and I take a plain vanilla. We laugh at the mess he makes and attempt to clean him up with napkins. I take lots of them and put them in my pocket, Christian stares at me as I do this, but doesn't say anything, already knowing why I do what I just did.

Afterwards we get home and he heads to the bathroom and starts himself a bath, I sigh inwardly at the fact that he's really pretty self sufficient, he gives himself baths, he feeds himself, when he knows we have food and he plays by himself. I marvel at him sometimes. I start to put the food away when I can hear someone bounding through the door. It's Terry, and he's pissed.

He looks at me and sees the bags of food I'm putting away and starts to kick at them, and throwing them across the apartment; milk goes flying and explodes against a bare wall in the living room above the tv. I start to shudder and huddle and cry. I know Christian has already hidden himself somewhere.

"You stupid fucking bitch! You think it's okay for you to spend my fucking money?! How much did you spend that you earned last night?" I try to find my voice quickly.

"Randy didn't pay me and took the drugs so I-" My eyes light up with stars as he slaps me across the face sending me into the counter.

"He didn't fucking pay you and he took my fucking drugs! You're a worthless, disgusting piece of shit, you know that! Dumb whore can't even get paid!" He then realizes that he threw food everywhere and I brace for the hit that comes quickly.

"If Randy didn't pay you, where did the money come to buy all this shit, huh?" I blink, my eye is starting to swell.

"I found it...on the sidewalk," I can't tell him Old Lady Pat gave it to me or he'll kill her, "so I decided to get some food for Christian and I." He looks around for a moment, noticing that he isn't in the room with us.

"You found it…"his voice seems to calm for a moment, "I don't fucking believe you, but I'm more surprised you didn't buy dope with it." He seems almost impressed.

"Thought about it, but I know my son was hungry." The worst is over as long as Christian stays hidden, sometimes he doesn't.

"Well, fuck Ella, now I better go track down Randy and get my money back or you're fucked, where's the phone?" I point, but I know the phone isn't going to work and as he discovers that he pulls the cord out of the socket and throws the phone out the window, shattering glass, everywhere. Without another word Terry walks out. His high top boots thumping softly down the hall and leaving.

After a few minutes I pick myself up and head to the bathroom where I shut off the running fawcett, it's nearly overflowed. And look in the cupboards to find Christian hiding very well under the sink behind empty bottles of booze and cleaning fluids. I pull him out and lift him up and sit him on the counter. I wipe away his tears gently, he still flinches, but does the same for me, being careful not to touch my swollen eye. I put him back on the floor and he undresses and sets himself in the tub, pulling the plug to make sure it doesn't overflow. I tear my gaze away in shame that he's always afraid.

I clean up the milk a little, we still luckily have another whole gallon that wasn't thrown across the room. After a while I notice Christian is clean, dressed in clothes I hope are clean and sits on the couch. He doesn't look at me and is closed off and reserved, and I feel it's all my fault. It's all my fault we're here in this place and that he watches me get fucked by strangers, get drunk, get high, get beat by Terry, it's myself he gets beat, neglected and starved.

My face is throbbing, the eye is pretty closed off now and I'm starting to shake from withdrawals. I make Christian one of his favorite meals for lunch, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and macaroni and cheese. He sits quietly in his seat devouring his food while I eat some macaroni and cheese holding a bag of frozen peas to my face, the cold almost burns in a way, but the relief feels great.

After we're done Christian takes our plates and puts them in the sink, he's my handsome little grown up. I slump on the couch, starting to feel very sick and Christian sits above me and starts to play with my hair. He occasionally tugs too hard, but for the most part it helps to calm me down and I slowly drift off to sleep, only waking up a few times to violently vomit on the carpet and in the bathroom. I'm sickened in my heart when Christian comes into the bathroom with a bottle of nearly gone vodka and a small bag of cocaine that I'm sure was in one of the cushions of the couch.

"Don't be sick no more Mommy." I greedily chug the last of the bottle down, ignoring the small burn that goes down from previously being sick. I spread the last of the coke on the dirty counter top and snort it quickly, licking up the residue that I couldn't snort and what was left in the bag.

It's late and I hear a knocking on the door in the living room. Christian lowers his head and goes to shut off the tv and hide in the closet in the bedroom. I open the door and find it's someone I don't know….a john. They never say much, thank god, we usually just get down to business and figuring out what they want and I charge what's warranted.

After the long few hours of dirty sex and drugs I head to the bedroom. I wish there was more, but there would be no use for it, Christian doesn't sleep alone anyways. I lie down and Christian scoots in next to me on the queen size bed that has no sheets but just a dirty thin mattress. I really should do some kind of laundry, it's all just blended together anymore that I don't know what's clean and what isn't.

I close my eyes and Christian wraps himself around me, I try my best not to cuddle him back as he doesn't like it, I have Terry to thank for him hating being touched. Christian falls asleep in a restless sort of way. He cries every once in a while but holds me closer to him and falls back to sleep.

I close my eyes, tears falling from them, no different from most nights, and I am ashamed of how horrible of a mother I am….I love my son, but I cannot keep this up much longer.

The next morning Christian is wrapped around me like a vine, he's sucking his thumb and he looks absolutely peaceful the thought makes me smile. I slowly get up from the bed, careful to not wake him and take a shower, washing away the evidence of last nights work and blood. The water is hot; one of the good things about this shitty place is it's got a damn good water heater. I breathe in and out slowly, taking a moment to collect my thoughts over what to do with our future. My reverie is ending as the bathroom door slowly creaks open with Christian walking in slowly and trying to tip toe to go to the bathroom. I smile and let him do his business while I shower.

After he's finished, he shuts the lid on the toilet and sits waiting for me to finish, he must be wanting a bath. I inhale and start to sing for him, I peek around the curtain and see him swinging his legs to the song. He starts to join in and we happily sing ABC's and Itsy-Bitsy Spider together.

After I'm done he hands me a towel without opening the curtain. I smile at my self-sufficient little man, he's very smart. After I get out, we both get dressed in comfortable and clean jeans and tshirts. I let him comb and braid my hair, one of his favorite things to do, and we head out of the apartment to down the road where the intercity park is. It's not the best of parks, but it's close and I don't have to pay the bus to take us.

As we walk Christian holds my hand tightly, standing as close as he can to me and looking in all directions as if we were being followed. Once we arrive at the park and meet up with my hispanic friend Tina and her two children Robert and Maria, Christian is still holding my hand. Robert and Maria are close in age to Christian. Robert is about 2 years older and Maria is about a year younger. Tina glances briefly as her kids wander to the swings making sure that they don't go too far. She glances quizzically at Christian, but I just smile and shrug. I can't help but feel he's trying to make sure I don't wander off too far.

"Did Terry get to you again?" She frowns and we sit on a bench together. She blinks her pretty brown eyes a few times at me as if hoping the image goes away.

"Yeah, he thought I stiffed him on money, when it was Randy that did it." I glance down at the ground for a moment and watch a bug as it crawls on the ground.

"He's an asshole, you shouldn't have to deal with that shit no more." She takes a pack of Camel cigarettes out of her back pocket and offers me one. I usually don't like Camel, but after yesterday I'll take it.

"Yeah, but, I wouldn't have anywhere to go." She stares at me as if I have a third head poking out of my neck.

"Ella, I told you, Juan and I would be happy to help you and Christian out. Get you out of that shit hole and away from Terry, you're too good for the shit you're doing." I keep from letting tears slip as she says this.

"I can't, Terry would find us anyways," I see the fear in her eyes as she partially realizes the truth in that, then try to bring it back on myself, "Besides, I don't want to end up making you a part of my drug habit."

Tina rolls her eyes and me and I'm suddenly annoyed, I hate that. "You need to kick that shit, I did it and so can you. You just can't keep hurting yourself or your son like that." She's always so honest with me, one of the things I love about her.

Tina and I met when I was a waitress at a diner, she occasionally came in for a cheap and crappy cup of coffee then eventually got a job thanks to Jim, the owner, he seemed like he had a soft spot for girls having a hard time. She at one point was turning trix for Terry too, but found Juan, a cute hispanic boy that worked construction around the city, he helped get her into rehab and got her clean. Eventually they got married and had 2 kids. Happily ever after. Why she still hangs out with me is unclear to me, but hell, I'm in short supply of actual friends. Soon I notice Christian's hold has some slack in it and I pull my hand slowly out of his and give him a reassuring look that everything will be okay while he plays; he's still unsure while he saunters off towards Robert and Maria who are now taking turns on the slide.

"Why's he so clingy to you? He's never like that." I sigh.

"I think he's trying to protect me, instead of getting into it and trying to protect me like he usually does he hid in the bathroom last night. I was glad though because then Terry didn't stay too long and didn't get a chance to hurt him."

Tina looks down, she knows how I feel about police and doesn't press the matter of taking him to file a report on Terry for abuse, besides, who would believe the little whore anyways? I've had enough charges on me for prostitution and drug possession, I don't need to lose my kid too. Of course, like all the other charges it might get dropped with a little bit of a sweet touch. We both stare off at the kids in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say to each other.

"Ella, if you need, I know the number for a shelter that can help if you get into trouble. They'll help you get clean and help you take care of Christian." I glare at her. This isn't what I wanted to talk about. I look down at the cigarette I've neglected to light and take the lighter from her and take a long drag. _Fuck, these are gross._

"I don't need a fucking stupid shelter,Tina, I just need Terry to get off my back and stop taking all the money from me."

Tina stops talking, and looks down with a look I can't quite place, I think I offended her.

"Well, when you decide to get some help, let me know, until then I can't help you." I don't want to lose my friend, and I sigh.

"I didn't mean to make you mad, I'll be okay, Christian will be okay, we're just in a tough spot right now." I give her a half hearted smile, I know it doesn't reach my eyes, she knows too but doesn't let on that she knows.

Tina stands up, flicking the ash from her cigarette onto the ground and throwing what's left of her butt on the ground, stomping on it to make sure it's out. She calls to her kids and they rush over, saddened that they have to go. Christian walks over, looking around him as he does then grabs my hand and with a brave smile he looks up at me.

"Let's go home Mommy, I want to watch cartoons and play with my cars." His beautiful gray eyes sparkle at me in excitement about his new toy car. I smile back at him in response and take his hand and together we walk home.

As soon as we get home Christian skips over to the television and turns it on, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood is on and he sits down in front of the couch on the floor. I sit behind him, my legs on either side of him, essentially holding him in place, I lean forward and skim my fingers through his hair. I smile slightly as he leans into my hands and giggles when I tickle behind his ears. I kiss the top of his head and sit back.

After a while my stomach growls and Christian tenses up as if Terry just walked in the house, instead of running into a different room he walks into the kitchen and gets a plate out of the cupboard and takes the leftover mac 'n cheese out of the fridge, I watch him in confusion.

"What are you doing, Christian?" He smiles at me.

"I'm taking care of you Mommy." This breaks my heart and I frown, I'm supposed to take care of him.

"Why don't you eat it and I'll make something else?" He looks at me confused and shocked as if I stepped on his foot, tears seem to well up in his eyes.

"But I want you to eat it, I'll eat later, I want to take care of you." I walk over and kneel down in front of him.

"I'm okay, but I want you to eat it because I want something else." It does look good. He hands me the plate without fighting, hanging his head slightly.

I reheat the noodles and place the plate in front of him with a small cup filled with milk. Looking around I do notice we have food, but I want to make sure he has enough, he never does. He hasn't touched his food yet...I grab a piece of bread and spread some peanut butter on it to make a half sandwich. It's dry in my mouth and sticks, making me wish there was a lot more milk to down, but instead I get a cup from the cupboard and fill it with tap water, it tastes awful and doesn't smell very clean either, but the bread is starting to stick to my throat and I down half the glass in one gulp.

Later that night I tuck Christian into my bed, really our bed, and tell him that I'll be in soon, hoping he doesn't hide and wait for me like he always does. He nods his head and hugs the blankets tight to his chest, his breathing starts to get shorter and more rapid, it hurts my heart. "I promise, I'll be in soon." He relaxes a little.

As if on cue a few knocks ping from the front door and I kiss Christian on the forehead goodnight, and shut the door behind me. I open up the front door to find a man named Charles, he seems nice and I find out he's got some crack cocaine and vodka and a good $200, good enough for the whole night. We don't talk much, I take a few swigs from the bottle of vodka and push him onto the couch. He's got blue eyes, sunken in from years of drug and alcohol abuse, sandy blonde hair and a relatively young face that is ridden with pick marks and a general look of sadness.

I stand in front of him, holding the bottle of vodka in my hand. After taking the bottle and setting it down Charles grabs my behind and pulls me in, he unbuttons my pants with rushing, fumbling hands and pulls them down to the floor, my cotton panties he practically rips off with his rushed hands and I nearly lose my balance but catch myself against the wall. He starts to trail his hands up and down my legs, but stops for a moment to stand up and take off his own pants; once again fumbling with his own buttons. I push him back down on the couch and begins to undo his belt, button and zipper with easy, quick movements. Easily he lifts his bottom and I'm able to slide off his pants and boxers. He looks like he's been injecting needles into his legs, he's beyond me, I only smoke it, I haven't yet gotten to using needles.

I pull him close to me and grab his erection in my hands and begin to stroke up and down with swift movements; he throws his head back against the couch moaning deep in his throat, eventually I pull him into my mouth and use the same movements that my hands were doing moments ago.

"Oh Ella, suck it, harder." I listen and begin to suck and do it hard, making him squirm beneath me.

Eventually I pull away before he gets ready to cum and I pull out a condom from a drawer next to the couch and place it over his member. Without breaking a beat I lick my hand applying some lubricant to myself before I climb on top of him. We both groan and moan as I slowly begin to ride him, slowly at first, up and down, then much faster, swirling my hips around him and over him. He begins to tense up his body, straightening his legs, I know it's only seconds until he cums. I start to make loud noises as if I'm cumming with him, but I don't, I rarely ever genuinely do.

"Damn, that was great." He breathes while I climb off of him and pick my clothes up from off the floor.

After Charles and I are once again clothed, I take a large swig of vodka, ignoring the burn as it goes down my throat. I notice that Charles is starting to prepare the drugs for us to do, and I'm disappointed that he didn't want to leave instead but I'll indulge him until my other appointment arrives. After a few hours of smoking and drinking I'm good and sick of him being in my apartment. So I'm glad when a regular, Marco stops by; Charles quickly hands me the money and makes his way out of my apartment, forgetting the bottle of vodka and some of the drugs behind. I give Marco a quick blow job and he's soon on his way.

I'm tired, drunk, and extremely high. I forget all about my promise to go to bed with Christian and fall asleep on the floor next to the couch.

After several hours I'm awoken to a high pitch scream and crying and some loud fumbling going on. I sit up quickly, feeling a head rush from the vodka but push it away as I think it's just Christian just having a nightmare, until the fumbling sounds don't seem to stop, that's when I notice the front door is wide open and some of the drugs are gone. _CHRISTIAN!_

I run into the bedroom as best as I can and flip on the light, I'm shocked and start throwing whatever I can get my hand on at the person standing over my bed, holding my son down, his pajama pants pulled down slightly and this man penetrating my son. I finally put my hand on a bat that I keep near the bed and swing as hard as I can until I hear a slight crack as the bat makes contact with his jaw. I raise the bat again and Christian is screaming and crying, clinging to the bed as best as he can. I get a better look at this person in my room violating my son and hit him again as I see the saddened, deep blue eyes of Charles.

"Get the _fuck_ out of my house you sick fucking bastard, before I fucking kill you!" Charles, holding onto his jaw tries to collect himself and runs out of the apartment before I can hit him again.

I'm screaming and crying as hard as I can. I reach for Christian and he looks at me with utter shock and despair on his face, pushing further away from me. I drop the bat on the floor with a loud bang and cry on the bed, my poor son. _My poor boy, my Christian._ _I cannot protect you._ The thought destroys me. While I know he wasn't fully penetrated by Charles, the damage had been done and cannot be reversed.

"I'm okay Mommy, I'm here for you, safe." He strokes my hair and lays down beside me, we cry together, both completely broken. 

The next morning I wake up on the bed, a horrible pounding in my head, I sit up running a hand through my matted hair and look around. Christian isn't in bed with me, and the thought scares me, where could he be? I get up and look in the closet, not there; I look in the living room and he's not there either, I start to freak out screaming his name as best as I can with a hoarse voice. Eventually I turn to see him poking his head out of the cupboard under the sink in the kitchen. _How long have you been in there?_ I wonder inside but don't ask. He looks like he's been crying all night long.

He crawls out and comes up to me, but won't look me in the eyes. I bend down to meet him at his level and attempt to touch his hair, he pulls away. My heart cries out, he acts like this when Terry hurts him, like it's his fault when it's all my fault. I look away, ashamed that I couldn't protect him, guilty that he knows that I couldn't. I sit down on the couch, feeling it sink beneath my weight, without thinking I grab the bottle of vodka and take as big of a swig as my stomach will allow. I haven't eaten hardly anything in days and the vodka hurts my stomach but the pounding in my head feels a little better.

I notice Christian is sitting in front of the turned off television, his head hanging. I get up and turn it on for him, putting it on cartoons. He relaxes for a moment, but still remains stiff in his back. I silently cry into my arm watching him. I feel like shit for what has happened, and I hope it hasn't happened before. My heart sinks when I realize that when high and drunk I can't account for the men that are in my house when I'm passed out...Christian might have been touched while I'm passed out and unable to hear him. I shudder at the thought and take another deep swig of vodka.

I'm shaken and shocked when the door is kicked open and I'm not surprised when I see Terry staring at me. His beard and mustache seem dirty, he's been snorting a lot of coke and he's going to fly off the handle. I look over to Christian whose standing against the tv staring in horror at Terry.

"You broke Charles' jaw you stupid fucking bitch!" He comes over and slaps me, striking me in the same place as he had the other day, my head rings in protest, but the vodka helps to numb it slightly.

"Well, he came back after I was done fucking him and I found him trying to fuck my son!" I scream at him in retort, Christian stands stock still, almost willing to disappear into the floor.

"Well, for what he fucking paid you in drugs alcohol and money you should have let him do whatever he wanted. Now I'm on the hook for his fucking bills! Which means you are!" I look at the floor where the money and the remainder of the drugs lie.

"So take the shit, you never leave us with anything to live off of, so when we die from starvation who will be your cash cow then, huh Terry?" I instantly regret it when his fist comes in contact with the side of my mouth making it hurt, I think I bit my tongue and I can feel blood filling my mouth.

Christian starts to cry, holding his arms around himself, unsure of what to do. His emotions are starting to betray him, he's terrified but can't seem to find his strength to run, he wants to protect me, but knows he'll get it worse. I'm shocked when I see Terry start to unbutton his pants, how dare he think to do this now in front of my son? _Run, Christian, turn away, don't watch this, please!_ I try to will Christian to leave and close his eyes with my mind, but it doesn't seem to work, he stares in horror.

"Since I'm on the hook, you're on the hook, and you'll repay me in anyway I see fit. And right now seems fit." I try to push him away yelling no, screaming, but he punches me again in the face and I stop protesting.

I'm shocked and tears spring to my face when he rips my underwear off, and I'm briefly away that I wasn't wearing any pants to begin with and he holds me down and pushes himself into me forcefully. I silently scream, wishing Christian didn't have to see this. Terry is grunting with each push of his hips, he starts to sweat and I am repulsed at the smell of old liquor, stale cigarettes, and body odor. I stop fighting and let him finish in me. Before I can collect my thoughts I notice Terry is struggling to get up and I hear soft sobs escaping from the left side of me. I look up in terror as Christian is trying to punch and kick Terry with all that he can muster, he's crying softly and it almost seems in slow motion as I watch a tear slide off his beautiful little cheek onto his hand.

Terry quickly sits up and buttons his pants back on; without missing a beat he throws a quick punch at Christian and lands his hit squarely on Christian's cheek throwing him back onto the ground. I sit up, my head ringing and the room spinning. I hear Christian screaming and look in time to see Terry holding Christian off the floor by his hair and throws him into the kitchen when he lands with a thud but seems to pick himself up. He's quick, but not quick enough to run past Terry who grabs him and throws him on the ground putting his boot on top of Christian holding him to the ground.

I can't seem to find my voice as I watch Terry pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights the tip of the cigarette and takes a long drag on it watching the end get bright red. Christian is screaming in protest with his face buried in the green carpet, trying to grasp at anything to help him get away. I close my eyes and my heart breaks to hear the screaming that comes from the subsequent burn inflicted on Christian by Terry. It burns right through his yellow Big Bird shirt into the soft flesh on his back. There are many others that accompany it, some in varying degrees of healing.

Terry looks at me pissed, as if it was my fault that he had to burn Christian.

"You and your little shit are nothing but fucking trouble for me." He leaves $20 out of the $200 from the night before and leaves.

Christian just lays on the floor, silent sobs escaping him. His eyes are open and filled with tears, and spilling into the carpet. He doesn't look at me, and I can't look at him, ashamed that once again I can't protect him.

Next Chapter: Things get worse for Ella and Christian. They find they're getting close to eviction as Terry stopped paying rent and Ella has to sell herself to the landlord to keep a roof over their heads. Ella finds out a horrible fact that Christian has been sexually abused by more men than Charles. Can Ella find the strength to protect Christian and save themselves?


	2. Chapter 2

Warning: **Extremely** graphic in nature.

* * *

It's 6 in the morning and I'm awoken to little screams coming from beside me; Christian is having a nightmare, and I can only imagine what it's about. I wrap the small dirty blanket tighter around him and he settles in, sucking his thumb slightly. I'm unable to fall back asleep so I pull myself out of the bed as quietly as I can. It's a crisp mid March morning, but we don't have a radiator to keep us warm so I turn on the gas stove slightly to let some heat go through the house. It's not great with the broken window, the hole covered by a thin piece of cardboard, but it's better than nothing. It's been a couple weeks since our last big assault with Terry and the black eyes and burns have all started to fade into distant memories. I look in the fridge and notice that it's warm in the fridge and the light doesn't come on. I go to the closest light switch and flick it, finding it won't turn on.

 _Shit!_ The power has been shut off. I knew the bills hadn't been paid in a while, but that's what happens when Terry is in charge of things. He's either forgotten, street gambled it away, or bought drugs and alcohol and went on a week-long binge...I'll guess the last two more than the former. I'm going to have to do some extra things to make money that Terry can't control...whatever that may be. I shudder at the thought, not that it can get much worse than sleeping with men for money. I'm aware that the fridge is warmer than it should be and food is quickly starting to spoil, not that there's much in there. If I don't figure it out soon we'll have to throw everything out.

I have a quarter of a pack of smokes left on the counter and light it up taking a huge drag to begin with and exhale slowly, _at least we still have gas...for now._ Just as I take another drag from my cigarette there's a knock on the door and I open it to find Michael, the landlord of the building. He's fat, hairy and smells of cheese gone way bad. He's got patches of hair on his face in a horrid attempt at trying to grow facial hair, but I wish I could say the same for his shoulders, arms and armpits, it's probably just as bad on his back; like a wool coat you have to wear all year long.

"It's your over-do notice, if you don't start paying rent again I'm gonna have to kick you out in a week. You're behind on everything, just be happy I'm keeping gas on for you for now, 'cause I know you have a kid and all." He holds out a stack of papers that I know I could never fully pay off.

"Thanks Mike...I'll get right on that...thanks." I try to shut the door and he puts his foot in the way to jam it open.

"Let me know if you need anything Ella, I'll be glad to help you out in any way I can." His lopsided smile makes me cringe. I've seen this look on johns and on Terry when I'm about to get the shit beat out of me, but they don't try and feign helpfulness. Michael is faking his genuinity, and he's implying on many different things, he's dirty.

"Yeah, will do, thanks, Mike." I once again shut the door and instead of leaving right away Michael just stares at me hungrily then licks his lips as if left overs have stuck around longer than necessary. I am able to finally shut the door and try the lock, though it doesn't work, hasn't worked since I moved in.

I feel dirty after talking to Michael, he was wearing a button up blue work shirt that looked like it was way too small for a man his size and would pop buttons at any moment if he took too big of a breath. There were a multitude of different stains on his shirt, some looked like coffee, the sleeves looked like they were covered in snot, and others...I shudder to think about.

I pull a half empty bottle of vodka from the freezer and chug a few times, the cold and burn mix together as they go down my throat. I finally finish my cigarette and toss it in the sink full of dirty dishes and gross water. After another gulp of the vodka I set the bottle down and cross my arms behind my head wondering what we're going to do for food today. I'm pulled from my thoughts as a sleepy Christian comes into the living room in an overly large shirt and a pair of underwear. He usually tells me good morning, but lately he's been talking less and less; I'll watch his face when I know he's thinking and wants to say something, but anymore he doesn't. Perhaps I'll send him over to Pat's today….but then I remember she's in California for a few months. It saddens me that she isn't around, Christian loves her.

I don't bother getting him food, he's already got himself a place set and with some hot dogs and a thing of ketchup, he doesn't heat it up, just devours it in a few bites, my mouth waters. I look away from the food and decide to go through the bills that Michael has given me.

$1600 due for rent.

$800 due for electricity.

$600 due for water.

$280 due for gas.

 _Great….._ That's more than I can make...Terry usually pays everything, but apparently he's been spending everything on drugs and alcohol. I'll either have to find somewhere to really work or figure things out with Michael...that thought depresses me.

It's a quiet morning between us, and I'm vaguely aware of my stomach growling, Christian doesn't look at me, knowing I'll say that I'm not hungry. I know what I'm going to have to do….and it's not going to be pretty.

I get dressed, and comb through my hair as best as I can, applying a little powder to my face and pinching my cheeks to bring them to life. I'm going to have to go beyond the safety of my apartment to find money. I'm conflicted on whether to bring Christian with me or to leave him here where he'll be safest.

I decide to take him with me and he gets dressed, we walk closer to Highland Park, these slums are even worse than what we live in. The 3 mile length of it with run-down buildings, a slightly new McDonalds and the old Ford plant surround a faintly used drug treatment facility I've had little experience going to, and in this area i'm not sure how many others have either. I walk down one of the streets I'm very familiar with and knock on a door that looks like it's been shot at too many times. I'm vaguely aware that Christian is shaking next to me, holding my hand as tightly as he can.

The door opens and I'm greeted by a woman I've met so many times but still don't know her name, she's only ever spoken to me a few times but lets me inside. The brown stone apartment smells old, dirty, and like too many homeless have voided themselves on the floor. I walk into a room that's slightly smaller than my own living room, the windows are blacked out with lots of curtains and blankets, in some spots plywood. I look around noticing about 10 other people in the room, several passed out on some of the couches that line the nasty yellow walls will falling wallpaper. Some are passed out on the floor or against the fireplace that's covered in trash and used needles.

I have to pull Christian with some force towards an empty spot on one of the couches, a once pretty, young, dirty woman smiles at him slightly but he refuses to smile back at her, clutching his hands around his middle tightly. I sit in front of him and look at a man that comes in. He's skinny, tanned skin, a small soul patch on his chin with an equally small mustache on his upper lip. He's got dark hair, almost black and black eyes, devoid of anything but money. I know him as Jeff, he's mine and Terry's dealer. He smiles at me with a familiar look that sends chills down my spine.

"Ella, long time no see. How's it going?" He has an accent, but I'm not sure from where.

"Fine, I need just a small fix. I haven't seen Terry in a while, I think he's on a binge." I clasp my shaking hands. A frown etches across Jeff's face.

"Terry owes me money, he's stiffed me the last two times he's been here. Now if he doesn't fucking pay me next time I'll cut his balls off." He pulls out a small baggy filled with what I'm wanting. Crack. I look away from it and back at Jeff as he counts the rocks and puts the bag back in his pocket.

"I'm sure he did, he's an asshole like that." I try to keep the conversation light with Jeff, I know he's packing a handgun in the back of his pants.

"Now I won't not sell to you, Ella. You at least pay me, even if you are Terry's bitch. But I like you. And you have a cute little boy." He nods his head toward Christian while he lights himself a cigarette.

"He's very cute." Says the dirty woman beside Christian, she reaches out to touch him with long, dirty fingers. Christian leans away from her and shits uncomfortable behind me.

I turn to glare at her and she pulls back, leaning slightly on the man passed out on the other side of her. I reach into my pocket and pull out a crinkled up $20 bill and hold it out to Jeff who takes it with a smile. He begins to count out a few rocks for me and puts them in a smaller baggy for me to take on my own. Instead of leaving right away I stay, it's usually customary to share with your dealer before you leave to make sure the shit they give you is legit. He sits down beside me and starts yelling for the woman that let me in to get in the room. She walks in and looks at Jeff with some fear in her eyes.

"Will you please get a straw for our guest to join me?" She nods and leaves the room a moment later returning with a hard plastic straw and some foil. Jeff pulls out his lighter and sets a rock on top of the foil, handing me the straw, he lights the underside of the foil and I lean in when the rock starts to get hot and turn to a liquid and smoke coming off of it. I take hit after hit, Jeff taking one after me.

I start to feel my insides melt slightly, my heart racing, but my hands stop shaking. I start to feel normal and less sick and apprehensive than I did earlier. Jeff really does carry some of the best shit in the city and I only go to him. The other big dealer in town is Lawrence, and I can't go to him….he was the dealer that killed Jake years ago in a deal gone bad. I feel an uncomfortable ache in my heart and I take another hit and let it go to the very far reaches of my mind. I pocket the small baggy Jeff got me and stand. Christian gets off the couch and grabs my hand, I squeeze his hand gently.

"Next time you see Terry, tell him he owes me money or I'm done with his ass. Got it?" He points at me and a chill goes down my spine, I nod.

"Yeah, I will." I respond and lead Christian out of the building. We head down a few streets that I'm just as familiar with, ignoring the whistles and calls from men near by, some of them call me by my name but look at me weirdly because of Christian.

We walk to a street right next to an alley and I make him hide next to a smelly dumpster and tell him to wait until I come back for him. He gives me a frightened and empty look back as I start to walk off, but he sits down on some cardboard and pulls his legs up to him to hold onto himself. I sigh quietly to myself as I walk to the opening of the long alley and wait for a come on.

It doesn't take long for someone to pull up in a shitty, white 1979 Toyota Celica. I lean in the window and smile as friendly as I can. I quickly learn his name is Tim and wants a quicky. I direct him to the alley where he pulls in. I can't see Christian, but I know he's there somewhere. I take off my pants and straddle his erection. Doesn't take him long to cum in me. He sighs in relief and tells me how great it was and hands me $40. I half smile at him and pocket the money. I get out of the car and he drives away, a shit-eating grin on his face, at least I made his day better and I made some money. I sigh as I feel his semen slightly leak out of me, unless the john has a condom I never wear them when I go to the streets. It's just easier that way, but it does become an annoyance.

After another 30 minutes and a cigarette later, a familiar face pulls up in a Crown Vic….it's Officer Paul….he's arrested me several times, but it always just ends in either a blow job or sex and then I'm off.

"Back out here again, Ella?" He smirks at me as he leans towards the passenger window. I give him a large smile and shrug.

"Just trying to make some happy people today Paul." I reply with a sarcastic tone to my voice.

Officer Paul frowns, his ugly pencil thin cop mustache twitches on his equally thin upper lip and he unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. I brace myself to run, but I know he'd catch me and beat the shit out of me or arrest me, and I can't spend a night in the hole while Christian is here; I should have left him home. He points his baton at me towards the alley while shutting off his radio.

"Trying to be smart with me Miss Gatley?" His tone is serious. "I don't like the nasty shit you do here on the streets and you know that."

"Yes, sir." I lick my lips and walk towards the brick wall in the alley, I can faintly hear shuffling of small feet going back to a piece of cardboard, _good, he's still there_.

"Turn around and spread 'em" I do as I'm told and spread my hands and feet, digging my nails into the brick wall in front of me.

Without another word he begins to search me and my heart starts to race as I remember there's a bag of crack in my back pocket. He's running his hands up and down my breasts, my hips and grabs me tightly between my thighs, I clench my belly in nervousness and close my eyes tightly as he finds the small bag with 3 small rocks.

"What's this? I'm gonna have to take you in, Ella." I start to squirm and try to grab the bag. He pushes his elbow into my back throwing me hard against the wall scraping my cheek on the brick.

"Don't fucking fight me, you know better. He pockets the crack and takes out handcuffs, cuffing my hands tightly behind my back, tight enough they tear into my flesh slightly. "I guess you need a cavity search, if you cooperate I'll let you go." His voice croons softly in my left ear but he still pushes me against the wall with his elbow. I just nod in agreement and he lets me up off the wall, my hands still bound behind me.

He rips my pants down to my knees, my panties follow. I can only imagine what he's got in store for me. Suddenly I have his baton in my face being shoved in my mouth and down my throat. I start to gag and my eyes fill with tears. He pulls it out and looks at it disapprovingly. "Suck it and get it wet or I'm going in dry." I will my mouth to fill with saliva but I'm dry and try again as best as I can gagging the entire time. Tears run down my face, not from crying but from gagging. He smiles and licks the tears off my cheeks. His breath is rancid and makes me cringe. He pushes my face back into the brick wall and my teeth clench as I feel the baton go into my vagina quickly and sharply. It's big and fills me completely. I grunt and groan from the pain and the forcefulness, but Officer Paul seems to take it as a sign of pleasure and continues his assault on me. After a few minutes the feeling of pressure in me is subsided only to be replaced by fear as I hear him unzip his pants. He's an ass man. My face is pulled off the wall and down to his dick, it too is shoved in my mouth and down my throat, he's got my hair in his fist and I'm forced to look up at him. He throws his head back in pleasure the more I go. After a few seconds he pulls my hair and forces my face back into the wall. Without warning he shoves himself into my backside, hard. I cry out in protest but it gets lost amidst his groans and moans. I try to pull against my restrains, but without stopping his hips he grabs my arms and twists them high up into my back making it harder for me to move. After a few more minutes he finds his release in me and pulls out quickly, cleaning himself off on the back of my shirt.

I'm finally let off of the brick wall and he uncuffs me. "Well, I guess there's no real reason to bring you into the station today, maybe next time." He walks back to his car and gets in, turning on his radio as he does, hearing a call for assistance to take in someone breaking in and entering a woman's apartment. "Duty calls, have a great day Miss Gatley." He smiles a sick smile, licking his lips and drives off.

I wipe the remaining tears from my face and pull my pants up and button them. I've not only just been refused payment, but I essentially just lost $20 worth of drugs I needed. Days like this are hard for me, I've only made $40, what a joke. I shake my head in anger as I walk back to the opening of the alley.

At the end of the day I've made a good $275, hopefully that will get electricity back on….Christian and I walk back to the apartment, he's still quiet and I'm aware of his stomach rumbling. When we walk in, it smells horrible, worse than usual...spoiled food. There's not even bread or peanut butter to eat. I'm tempted to go and get more crack from Jeff, but I'm tired and hungry, too much so that I don't feel like walking that far. He doesn't even walk to the bathroom or bedroom, he curls up on the couch and puts himself to sleep. I'm quite aware that it's late, my body aches and I'm trembling a little. I find a small bit left in a bottle of vodka and finish it all in one gulp, putting the empty bottle on the counter top.

Christian is deeply asleep on the couch and I decide to go down to the office to pay Michael. I knock on the door and wait a while, hearing faint movements inside. He opens the door and is in a dirty, sweat stained white tank top and boxer shorts with moth holes in them and mismatched socks. I look inside the office and notice that he must live here too. "Can you take payments on the bills for me? I don't get a lot of cash all the time, this is the best I can do today." My voice shakes, giving me away.

He takes the money and counts it, a smile crosses his face as he looks back at me, it's unsettling. "This isn't going to pay them all."

"I know, but it's all I have right now, and my kid is up there needing the electricity turned on so he can have food to eat." I'm sounding desperate…..he knows how desperate I am.

"Come into my office and I'll help you out." Michael steps aside and I walk in with slight hesitation.

Inside it smells like bad cheese, cat piss and just body odor. I try to not let my face betray me at how repulsive it really is. He shuts the door and locks it behind him, I don't feel secure in here, but I don't know what else to do. There's only a recliner for furniture in the living room, it's situated right in front of the small television, smaller than ours. A small lamp in the corner gives off little light, the carpet is the same green as ours, but it looks brown from various stains and sticks tightly to my shoes making an uncomfortable crunching noise beneath them. The smell gets worse the further in I go. I glance in the kitchen and I'm aware where a lot of the smell is coming from. There are cockroaches all over the place, dishes stacked for days, garbage litters the floor, the fridge hangs open and is filled with moldy, rotten, and sick food. The living room is in just as bad of condition, take out boxes strewn about, clothes unwashed and general garbage is everywhere.

"Take off your clothes." I'm shaken out of my train of thought as he looks at me and tells me these things. "If you want my help you're going to let me fuck you." He states matter of factly.

I take off my shirt slowly, setting it down on the carpet, hoping it doesn't scuttle away from a swarm of cockroaches; my bra soon follows and is laid on top of my shirt. Even the air feels dirty and my skin prickles with uneasiness. I take off my pants, careful to leave my shoes on.

"Tell me you love me." This shocks me, but it's nothing I haven't heard before from johns.

"I-I love you." He grabs both my arms in his fat, shaking hands. He pulls me in to him and kisses me hard and wanting on the mouth. His breath is rancid but I kiss back hoping he will let my mouth go quickly.

Out of no where I'm seeing stars as a hand comes across my face and throws me back sharply giving me whiplash. "TELL ME YOU LOVE ME YOU STUPID WHORE!"

"I love you, baby. Of course, I do. Only you." My voice shakes, betraying me. But I say it again, trying to soften my voice in an attempt to make him think it's true. "Yes, I love you."

His beady eyes stare at me intently and he lets go of me. He makes me follow him to his bedroom where there are once again clothes, old food and just generally garbage littered everywhere. Once again whiplash hits me when he pushes me hard against the bed and I'm lying flat against it. I start to sit up until I hear him taking off his belt. I shut my eyes for a moment then gasp as he whips me hard against my bare back and ass several times, hard. I turn to look at him and I'm shocked to see his gaze is cold and unforgiving. My skin starts to sing at the unpleasant feel of the cracked leather with each and every blow. I've counted 18 in all until he's done.

I start to get up when I feel his beefy hand grab my hair and lift me up until I'm on my hands and knees on the bed. I'm faintly aware that it smells like horrible body odor. He lets go of my hair and I'm gasping for air a moment later when the leather belt is tight around my neck, too tight. Not even a moment later he's in me, surprisingly. He's achingly big and the pressure fills me to my core. I try to cry out, but I can't get a breath in or out. He moves his hips back and forth quickly, picking up his pace quicker and quicker, slamming into me harder and harder. Apparently his belly makes no problem for him. After a few moments he's finished and relinquishes on the belt, I gasp for the biggest breath of air I've ever taken. I start to see stars and my head swims and I'm dizzy. I feel his weight as he leans on me for a second to catch his own breath.

I stay where I'm at, trying to catch my breath and regain my balance. I hear his large foot steps echo through the hall as he gathers my clothes and comes back to throw them at me. I put them on in silence, I know he's watching me closely.

"You'll come back tomorrow. I'll make sure your bills get taken care of, but if you don't come by, you'll be out of here by the end of the week, understood?" I look at him, swallow and nod my head, unable to reply.

I stand up and he tries to gingerly kiss me on the mouth, I just let him, slightly shaking. He doesn't follow me as I walk to the front door...I quickly walk out of the room and into the foyer of the complex and take a deep steadying breath. My ears start to pick up a small high pitched screaming that's coming from outside, it sounds familiar but I can't place whose it is.

I walk to the doors of the front of the complex and lean my head out to hear it better...The sound starts to get closer and closer the more I walk towards it... _someone's calling for their mommy...someone's calling for their mommy…...CHRISTIAN!_

I run out of the building as fast as I can and follow the sounds of the screaming.

"MOMMY! NO! NO! MOMMY SAVE ME!" I run into the alley and find Christian, surrounded by two men, they look like they're drunk out of their mind.

They are pushing him back and forth between them. He's completely naked and bleeding... One of the men starts to slap him on his belly, his back, his bottom. Christian is screaming bloody murder and looks terrified. I find the largest, heaviest object I can pick up and start swinging it at the men. In the total confusion, Christian falls to the ground on a small pile of glass and covers his head, still screaming. I hit one of the men in the back of the head and he slumps forward a moment. The men are able to gather themselves and run off. I drop the heavy object, whatever it was and scoop up Christian in my arms and run inside as fast as I can, making sure they won't follow us.

He's still screaming and thrashes against me almost as if he doesn't know it's me that's got him. I ignore the people peeking their heads out of their doors to see what's the commotion. I slam our living room door behind me and he's starting to settle down. He's holding onto me as tightly as he can and refuses to let go.

"Baby, baby it's me...shush, shush, you're safe now." I sink to the floor, cradling him in my arms tightly, I don't even fully realize the tears that are flowing from my eyes.

He's covered in small bruises, cuts to his feet and….. _no, please, no..._ his bottom is swollen and I notice blood is starting to dry and stick. I cry, he cries, we hold each other, not letting each other go as if the world is on fire around us and we need each other to survive. I pick him up and take him to the bathroom, hoping there is still water, luckily there is, I turn it on as hot as I can. Christian doesn't protest as he and I sit under the running hot water of the shower in the dark, me holding onto him. I shift slightly and I'm able to pull out small pieces of glass from his feet and knees. He cries, but lets me finish. The water does what it can to clean him off, I don't touch him other than to pull glass out of his feet and knees. After a good hour or so the water runs cold and we get out. I put some thick socks on his feet, blood prickles out of them slightly, but doesn't soak through. I put him in a warm pair of his pajamas and I get dressed in a long shirt and new underwear, I don't bother to comb my hair.

We lie down on the bed together, holding him as closely to myself as he will let me. We are still crying silently together; he grabs my hair and twiddles it in his fingers and with his other hand he sucks his thumb and finally falls asleep into an uneasy dream land. Eventually I cry myself to sleep, exhausted and scared for our little broken family…. _Why did he leave the apartment? Why was he naked….why did I fail again to protect the only thing that matters most to me?_

* * *

Next Chapter: How can Ella recover, how can Christian recover? How will this little family be able to leave again without viewing the world as an evil, horrible place?...


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: Graphic content

* * *

I wake up, strung out on the floor surrounded by empty bottles of vodka and some pipes from the night before. My head spins and my stomach turns, I make no effort to move from my spot for fear of throwing up. I've stopped trying to pick it up in here, there's no point anymore. It's just a constant flow of men coming in and out of my apartment. Christian hardly comes out of the bedroom anymore, sleeping to keep from being hungry mainly, I think. I look in the direction of my room as a man comes out of it and buttons his pants. I sit up and glare at him as he leaves the apartment.

I load up the pipe with drugs and close myself off to the world for a few moments while I regain my high and feel the world as it should be, empty. Poor Christian has been abused over and over and over, I feel powerless to protect him and so I've practically given up. When he wants to, he doesn't even care to be watching tv when I have company over, it's like we're both just on autopilot and ignorant to the other person.

After a while I walk to the kitchen, dressed in a pair of black cotton panties and a stained white bra, I look in the fridge, not much in there so I just shut it and sit at the table. The power came back on after a few nights of going to Michael's to keep a roof over our heads. He's brutal, worse than some of the johns I've come across. He's violent and always wants to hurt me while I tell him that I love him. Even Terry isn't this bad, to me. Terry just hits me, Michael ties me down, gags me, gets hanger wires white hot then burns my on my inner thighs. He'll put objects in me and choke me till I'm close to passing out. He's taken needles and stabbed the bottom of my feet over and over while my mouth is taped shut.

I shake my head trying to push the thoughts out of my mind. I look up and see Christian standing in the doorway, he looks just like how I feel….hell. We've been at this too long, we don't even know each other anymore. I look away, ashamed that I'm not what he needs, what he deserves, no matter how much I love him, I can't give him what he needs and it bothers me. He doesn't head for the kitchen, he goes and sits in front of the tv and watches sesame street.

It's been two weeks since he was on the street screaming for me to save him. I hate thinking about it; since then it's like we've just given up on trying to save each other, we're just doomed to live this life and to be destroyed by men that come into our lives and take advantage of us in many different ways. We're doomed to die like dogs in the street and be forgotten.

Terry finally came back yesterday, after almost 3 or so weeks of being on a binge. He beat the hell out of Christian and I, especially after I told him that he owes money to our dealer. _Fuck him._ It's his fault everything is shit, _is it?_ It's all my fault….all my fault….I want out of here….I want to take Christian far away from here...but would he trust me enough to take him away? _Probably not._ For some reason I find myself annoyed….not at Terry or myself...but at Christian. Maybe it's because I have been wondering back and forth how things would be if I didn't have to take care of him...if I could send him somewhere and be done, or if he just never existed at all.

A knock on the door startles me out of my head and stops me glaring at Christian. I get up and to my surprise is Old Lady Pat, she looks like she's eaten well and gotten some sun from California. She's leaning on her cane; the walk up and down the stairs isn't easy for her. I just stare at her, I feel so uneasy right now and I can't seem to get out of it. She looks at me shocked and extremely concerned.

"Ella, how's things?" She asks but already knows the answer, leaning over my shoulder to glance at Christian. I shift my weight to block her view.

"Just fine, couldn't be better. Is there something I can do for you, Pat?" My voice is harsh and rude.

"Oh," Pat seems taken aback, shocked even. I've never been this rude to her before, "I just came to give Christian a present." She holds up a small plastic bag and I take it from her without another word. We glance at each other and I smile, forgetting to be genuine and quickly thank her before shutting the door and shutting her out.

I hand the bag to Christian and he opens it with suspicion. It's a yellow toy car. He holds it up for me with excitement and rushes to go get his green and red one. Without thinking I find myself sitting cross legged on the floor with him zooming his cars around. I choose the red and he chose the green and yellow. The green is his favorite, but right now the yellow seems to be his close second. Momentarily I forget all about our troubles and play with him on the floor, making zooming sounds and play crashing sounds. His childish laughter makes a pleasurable feeling fill up my chest. I love this little boy more than I could ever express, but the drugs, alcohol and our….my...situation makes it hard for me to express it…

We sit like this for an hour, happily playing and just enjoying each other's company, something we don't do often. Our happiness is suddenly crushed when we can hear Terry crashing through the hall towards the apartment, Christian grabs his toy cars and bundles them up in his arms while attempting to hide under the kitchen table. Terry, of course, doesn't knock but crashes right in. He's been drinking...tequila….he gets stupid drunk very fast off that always comes for a fight.

"I'm here to tell you the what's-what, Ella" He shakes a reproving finger at me, holding the near empty bottle in his quivering hand. _For god's sake, it's only 11 in the morning….already?_ "I fucking hate you and that cum dumpster you call a son." I stand up to put myself between him and Christian, so far he hasn't seen him.

"I'm fully aware of that, Terry, what's your point?" I fall to the floor with a thud as the glass bottle comes in contact with my temple, it throbs.

"I'm just sick of having to support it, and support you, you're a worthless piece of shit that….that...that I just can't stand, and that really pisses me off." He breathes in my face after I stand up, it reeks of tequila.

"Well then just leave us alone, you don't do any supporting anyways, we have to fend for ourselves!" I retort, and his face becomes oddly somber, then extremely dark and that frightens me. He grabs the front of my shirt, twisting it and pulling me close to him so I can feel his hot breath on my face, he begins to speak in an electric whisper that sends terrifying electric current through my body making me want to run for shelter.

"I'll never leave you alone, I'll follow you around and watch you fuck random people off the street, I'll watch as you let the fat fuck down stairs fuck you to keep you here...I'll always follow you and watch what you do, because you're my fucking whore!" His eyes burn with a wickedness that I've never seen before. "I own you, and no one else, got it?" I nod...I don't want to disagree with him…

"Yes, understood. You take good care of us…." I look down, my eyes would betray me if I look at him.

"Well then, remind me of how good of care I take care of you, baby." Letting go of my shirt he grabs the back of my head and holds a tight fistful of my hair and pulls so my chin is lifted up. He plants a wet and sloppy drunken kiss on my mouth, invading it with the rancid taste of tequila and stale cigarettes.

I can hear Christian appear from under the table and Terry stops his assault on my mouth to growl at Christian. "Get the fuck out of here you fucking maggot or I'll kick your retarded head in." Christian stands still, unmoving and unsure of what to do. "Fucking git!" Terry slams his fist on the table after a fraction of a second Christian runs to the closet in the bedroom to hide, Terry pushing the table onto the ground to scare him even further.

Once again Terry grabs my hair and returns to my mouth. Even though he's still a horrible, cancerous person that invades and destroys everything he touches, when he's drunk he's not half bad. He grabs my breasts in his free hand and squeezes gently and sets me down on the couch while he kicks off his boots and pulls down his pants. I take my shirt off and my pants, I'm only in a pair of panties. Within a few minutes he's down to just his white boxers and bends down onto his knees on the carpet in front of me. Instead of reaching for the drugs that are strewn on the floor, he pulls out an already loaded needle and a rubber hose from his discarded pants pockets. I stare at him as he wraps the rubber hose around my right arm. I'm nervous, I've never actually shot up before, but anymore I'm just not caring, I've lost my caring weeks ago.

"It's going to hurt for a second, then you're gonna fly to heaven, baby." He smiles at me, a smile that looks promising, but I can't account for it.

I look away for a moment, but after a second I'm drawn back as he pushes the sharp needle into my skin, in my vein, the way a professional would, it does sting but only for a second, just as he said it would. After a small second, and after the needle is pulled out and the hose taken off my throbbing arm, I feel like jello all over my body. My temple no longer throbs, my body is no longer sore, I feel light, lifted and alive! I watch as Terry does the same for himself. He throws his head back as the high begins to take over his body. I look down at my arm as I feel something warm and gooey slide down my arm...it's blood. Terry seems to notice it too as I look around for something to clean it up with. Terry scoots closer to me and takes my arm by the elbow and brings my arm up to his face, I watch in amusement and shock as he licks up the blood, and sucks on the small puncture mark for a second, the feeling is oddly pleasurable, but I'm not sure if it's from the drugs or if it actually feels good.

After however long, I'm not sure how long it really is, we're fully naked, entwining our bodies around each other and I've forgotten about everything; the nasty apartment, my drug and alcoholism, my sick arrangement with Michael, abusive Terry, Christian….The drugs circling through my veins have made everything feel heavenly and like I have never felt before, like flying. A much better high than when smoking, a better high than I've ever felt in my life. What is actually a rarity happens, I reach a climax, as does Terry and we lie together on the couch, sweaty, half-in and half-out of reality.

After we settle and relax letting the drug course through us, Christian comes out of the room and I'm suddenly very annoyed with him. Terry doesn't seem to notice or care. Christian goes into the kitchen and looks around the fridge hoping to find something to eat, _God, doesn't he fucking get it?! We don't have anything to eat!_ Terry pulls on his clothes and throws mine at me, I dress, only half aware of what's really going on. It feels like hours go by, but only minutes have actually passed. Eventually I'm aware that Christian is standing next to me, tapping me on the shoulder, then pushing it to get my attention.

"WHAT!?" I scream at him, _Just leave me alone, for fuck's sake!_ But he just looks at me in shock for a moment.

"Mommy….hungry." Is all he mutters out.

"I don't fucking care, there's obviously nothing to eat." But Christian still doesn't go, all he does is stare at me. "I said that I DON'T FUCKING CARE! GET OUT OF MY FACE YOU LITTLE MAGGOT!" I don't know what it is that's making me say it, but for some reason it feels great to say it and to see the look on his face change from confusion to hurt. Without thinking about it, my hand is making contact with the side of his head, slapping him, hard, and making him stagger away.

"Leave your mom alone, fucking retard!" Terry yells at him and Christian finally leaves the room, no tears evident on his face but obvious hurt.

"He's some cash that'll get you through the week," he throws about a hundred at my feet, "if you need drugs I'll go to Jeff myself, I still need to pay him, I owe him about $1500 and he'll want payment from you." I grab the money and tuck it into my pants pocket.

"What kind of drug was that?" I hardly listened at all to what he was saying before.

"Fentanyl, or Heroin." I'm not surprised, crack couldn't feel this good. I lick my lips as I nod in understanding.

"It's nice, I'll want some more." I see the look on his face as if I'm annoying him. Terry then shows me how to get it all ready so I can shoot up next time. He hands me everything I need then leaves when he's done.

It's quiet and I'm suddenly aware of how quiet it really is. I get up and turn the television on and put it on what sounds like some kind of talk show, I just lie there staring at it, no idea what's going on. Eventually I fall asleep on the couch, waking up only slightly as Christian is pulling a small blanket over me and beginning to play with my hair.

After I wake up, it's late and I'm feeling uneasy, the drugs must be working their way out of my system. I look around and Christian is sitting staring at the television, making sure not to disturb me. I sit up and notice there are still some drugs on the floor from earlier, like a dog I kneel down and start to snort up leftover coke and scoop some with my finger and suck on it. It's not as good as the earlier high with the heroin but it'll do while I go to meet Michael.

I lock the door behind me as I head down to Michael's office/apartment. I've been doing this since the first time I came here, just to make sure Christian can't get out. I notice the door is open a little bit, I look around wondering if Michael left it open by mistake. After a few minutes I get curious and walk in, _maybe he's dead_ , the thought makes me smile. After a quick glance around I notice he's no where to be found, and my curiosity peeks. I start to look around at things I hadn't before. Stolen mail from the tenants, clothes stolen from the laundry room; I find his bag that he carries around when he goes to fix things for the tenants and open it ever so slightly, I back away quickly when I see a loaded revolver, just sitting on top of the tools, ready to go. When I turn around I see Michael standing in the door, and that's when I see stars momentarily and then nothing.

When I come to, I'm gasping for air as if I'd had a bag over my head for a while. I'm lying naked and sprawled out on a pile of garbage and clothes, next to a plastic bag that looks like the handles were pulled too tightly and began to stretch, that explains it and the pain around my throat. My head throbs and I reach up to my temple and find my hair is sticky and wet with blood. Slowly getting up I notice my entire body hurts and cries out in pain as I stretch and move, even slightly. It takes me a while before I can find my clothes, but before too long I'm dressed and head into the living room where Michael is asleep in his chair, looked sated and satisfied, a wooden bat lying on the ground next to his chair, blood and hair on it, that explains the headache.

After I return to the apartment, Christian is asleep on the floor, curled up with the blanket he gave me earlier. I cross into the kitchen and find a cigarette on the table, without hesitation I light it and inhale the sweet, though stale, smoke into my lungs, my throat protesting because of its earlier endeavors. I cross my arms and lean against the counter, looking out of the grimy window to the city outside. Sometimes I wonder if I would get in trouble for leaving Christian at a fire station, or a hospital...just leave him, maybe some nice, clean family could take him...I wouldn't have to worry about taking care of him and he wouldn't have to watch me fuck and do drugs all the time.

He stirs slightly but stays asleep, he usually doesn't sleep well on his own and will wait till I get home...I look at the clock on the wall, surprisingly it still works, it's just after 4 in the morning, I've been gone for nearly 8 hours…. _fuck_! I've missed appointments, oh well, they'll just have to come back another time I guess...That just means that we don't get paid. But at least we have the money Terry gave us, I could get some food, and maybe get some more drugs and vodka, I really need vodka. I finish my cigarette and lie next to Christian, pulling some of the blanket over myself too, he cuddles in close to me accepting some of my warmth. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, _he's my baby, and I love him...but this is too much to handle anymore…_

* * *

Next Chapter: In the few months/weeks before Ella's death, she spirals into hell my shooting up heroin, her view of her poor son, Christian, gets distorted and she starts to hate him. She also meets someone that turns her world upside down, even if for just a few moments.


	4. Chapter 4

The world has slowed down. Everything around me feels like heaven, I feel like a sweet fire is licking my skin setting it alight with pain and so much pleasure. The heroin coursing through my veins takes its effect almost immediately. I set my head back on the edge of the couch and close my eyes, letting the feelings take me over, Christian is complaining about something stupid, like his car going under the couch or something. I shoo him away and eventually he goes, skulking in the kitchen. Terry comes in and starts beating the shit out of him, it's became constant, every single day and I've just come to ignore it; the drugs help with that, they help with not caring or worrying. Christian runs off, into the bedroom to hide I think while Terry and I fuck, after he's finished he gets up and leaves.

Tina has been coming by everyday, pounding on the door, I just ignore her, she just doesn't get it. I'm in too deep to quit now, way too deep. She's talked, through the door, about taking Christian away from me, and I just can't allow that, he's mine, not her's.

I lock Christian in the apartment as I walk down the slums and hang out by my spot. It's a bit of a grimy day and I feel like I should have brought a jacket; looking up at the sky it looks like rain. I brush my fingers through my auburn hair a moment to keep my hands busy, I feel like I'm starting to shake for whatever reason, maybe I need some alcohol in my system. I look around when I hear cat calls and the roar of a car engine that sounds out of place. To my surprise a black BMW, and I'm guessing it's pretty new, just by the looks of it. My interests are piqued when I see the car slow down, as if assessing the people it passes by, they're as much of a spectacle as we are. Why would a nice car like that be driving in a shit hole like this?

I'm surprised and stiffen up my back when the car pulls in front of me. The windows are tinted so black I can see my reflection in it...It's a horrible sight to see, so I try to look passed it. Eventually the front passenger window goes down and I have to blink a few times at the man I see before me. He's enticingly handsome, very well groomed with soft skin and beautiful blonde-ish hair. Though he's extremely handsome, he also looks really familiar.

"You wanting to spend some time?" My voice nearly shakes, but I keep it under control as best as I can.

"Yes, please, get in." Once again the pange of familiarity hits me, but I can't place where from.

Without hesitation I get inside of the car, slightly afraid to get anything dirty. The leather interior really smells delicious and comfortable. The handsome man is well groomed, he's in a pair of suit pants and a white, button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A nice Rolex watch is ticking away quietly on his right hand. We sit in silence for a few minutes just looking each other over. I swear I know this man, but I'm not sure if it's the drugs or just the different atmosphere but I can't place where I know him.

"How about we go for a drive?" His voice is soft and comfortable. I nod my head and we drive off in the direction of the good part of town.

I stare out the window trying to figure where I know him then suddenly….it hits me. Oh shit….I'm in very big trouble.

"How about some food?" He looks over at me and I stare at him with big eyes full of fear and confusion.

"I know who you are….you're the DA...the prosecutor that threw me in jail for six months for drugs and prostitution." My voice sounds accusatory and matter-of-factly. "You're Carrick Grey."

He looks at me and doesn't give anything away. Without saying anything else he returns to the road and continues to drive, after a few minutes we pull up outside of a restaurant. It looks really nice, and I feel very unsure about myself. He gets out of the car and opens my door for me. Holding out his hand I take it and he helps me to my feet; glancing at my arms he can see the various track marks, made there by me, I pull my arm away and suddenly feel ashamed.

"You really should take better care of yourself, my wife is a doctor and could really help you out, get you into some programs." You want your wife to take care of me? I just shake my head and we head into the restaurant, thankfully it's dark and I don't have to make much eye contact with other people around here. We sit and within seconds the waitress takes our orders, she seems strung out on something, too, probably pills. Carrick orders for us and she takes her leave.

"Why did you pick me up, Mr. Grey?" I look him dead in the face and gauge and small sadness from him, but I don't stop staring at him.

"I needed some company while my wife is out of town." I feel like he's lying, but who am I to judge, he's certainly not the first married man, or lawyer to proposition me, it's just money.

"What kind of company are you looking for?" It's time for business I suppose.

"I'm-" We're cut short as the waitress brings us drinks, water, and our food. It smells heavenly, like and I dig in, very guilty that Christian isn't here to enjoy this, he would love it.

We sit in silence for a while, eating our food, occasionally glancing at each other as if assessing the other person's intentions. He's very handsome, clean, smells nice, full of manners. After we have finished our food we sit and stare at each other, very aware of the awkward silence between us.

"So, please tell me a little about yourself Miss Gatley." He props his elbows up on the table, crossing his fingers and slightly touching his mouth to his hands. His eyes probe me and I feel suddenly very naked in front of him.

"Um, well…" I look around, trying to figure what to say, I've never had a date before, "I am 24, I used to live in Ohio, I have a 3 year old son and I'm a hooker, that you once put in jail for, what can I say." I notice the venom in my voice near the end, slightly unintended, and yet he smiles at me, very gently.

"Yes, I did put you in jail, but I have no intentions of doing that at this moment, Miss Gatley." I'm confused. "I want to proposition you for a business deal, if you are willing to indulge me."

"What is it?" I'm interested to say the least, so I lean forward as if we were spies and about to discuss a secret mission.

"I'd like to spend some time with you during times my wife is out of town on trips, I want you to accompany me to certain things that we can discuss at a later time." A small fire is in his eyes, he is a man that loves talking business and contracts I imagine.

"And what about my son, I can't forget him." It's true, he does always get the bum end of the deal on everything.

"I don't wish to meet him, but if necessary we can find suitable care for him." Good, I don't want you seeing him or touching him anyways.

"And money?" I'm afraid that may be too rash and will make him throw away our plans.

"I'll pay about $120 and hour for your services, and if you accompany me to certain things I can increase the pay if you desire." It sounds too good to be true.

"Okay, sure, sounds fine." He holds out his hand and I shake it. After a small break we head back to the car and he helps me in, I buckle up as he seats himself. I take a moment to figure more out about him.

"So, do you love your wife?" The questions shocks us both as it comes out of my mouth.

"Of course I do, very much so, she's my everything." A twinkle in his eye tells me that it's the truth.

"Well, if you love her so much, why do you come looking for 'scum of the underground'?" I quote what he said to the judge about me years ago, he looks at me pained by my words.

"Grace and I….well, we have problems, we can't have children, we've adopted a boy, his name is Elliot...but still the pain of not having our own creates distance between us...we have our own ways of coping, she too has boyfriends on the side, as I have my own discretions. We love each other, but also enjoy the company of other people." This confuses me, but I just nod as if I understand and completely agree.

"We just have our own separate lives away from each other, and we're both okay with it."

"Oh." Is all I can think to say. After a small drive I'm back to my corner where he found me.

He pulls out his pocket and hands me a bundle of $20 bills and a business card. "Call me when you get home and we can sort out our arrangement. I look down for a moment then back at him.

"I don't have a phone." My mind fleets back to when Terry threw it out the window. Without hesitation he sifts through his wallet and pulls out a $50 bill and hands it to me.

"Buy one, then call." He smiles kindly and drives off without saying another word and without another glance.

Later that night, after Christian and I have gone shopping for food and a new phone I make us dinner, and we sit down to eat. A little while later, while Christian is watching something on television I hook up the new phone and dial Carrick.

It rings a few times before being picked up by a young woman's voice. "Grey residence, Tiffany speaking?" I tell her I need to speak to Mr. Grey and soon his deep melodic tone fills the speaker on my end.

"This is Carrick?" At first I don't know what to say and so I say nothing. He clears his throat a moment and I'm brought back to the present. "Is this Ella?" He chimes before I get a word out.

"Yes, sir, this is she." I hear a faint smile in the background.

"Tomorrow night at 8 o'clock, I'll pick you up and you're going to enjoy your time. Where do you live?" I give him the address, and a few minutes later after we hang up, I find myself smiling for some reason.

After a while, I give Christian a kiss on the forehead, lock him in the apartment and head to Michael's apartment.

XX

The next morning, I wake up, Christian is sleeping wrapped up in a blanket next to me, I snuggle in closer, and inhale the sweet scent that comes off of his hair, I really do love him very much. Eventually I slip away from him and head into the kitchen, we went shopping last night and have some food to cook, I think bacon and pancakes would really make Christian happy. I start to sing, an old favorite of mine; Christian likes it, too.

I vaguely hear him come into the living room and sit at the table. I turn to him and smile, asking him if he's hungry. Of course he's hungry….he's always hungry. After food is served we both chow down, eating like a pack of wolves that haven't eaten for weeks. After our bellies are filled we sit in silence. Today already seems like a good day, I'm not getting sick yet with the shakes or needs for drugs or vodka, but a cigarette after breakfast is always greatly enjoyed.

We both go into the bathroom and comb our hair and just enjoy each others company. I do notice my hands are starting to shake but I try to keep it away from Christian's view, I hate when he sees me hit withdrawals, it always scares him horribly. After getting dressed, we leave the apartment, hand-in-hand and walk to the park; this time he's not afraid of making sure I'm safe so he runs off to the slide and goes down it several times before switching to the swings where I have to push him to make him go, he still hasn't learned how to pump his legs to make himself go.

At this point I'm really starting to shake and feel cloudy in my head and sick to my stomach. I'm starting to forget where we are and why we're here. I notice Christian isn't swinging anymore, because I stopped pushing him, he's staring at me, as my face flushes and my skin starts to get clammy. Grabbing my hand he leads me back to the apartment. He sits in the corner of the couch, away from me while I start to turn the apartment over looking for some alcohol and some rock. I found a small rock of crack on the floor by the couch and a 5th of vodka in a cabinet in the kitchen. After smoking the crack and chugging some of the vodka I start to feel better.

Christian is staring at me again, a look of complete disapproval and I'm starting to get angry at him for staring at me like that. I stare back at him, waiting to see who will give in first. We both blink as we hear stomping coming from the hallway, Christian gets up and runs into the bedroom, I believe into my closet. Terry enters, without knocking of course, without saying a word, he plops down onto my couch.

"Hi, Terry. Need something?" I look at him, hoping for some type of reason as to why he's here.

"Just waiting for you to give me the money from the last 2 nights." This doesn't surprise me, it does surprise me he hasn't started swinging at me instead of patiently waiting. I go to the counter where the money from the last few johns is. I fold it and hand it to him, he counts the money quickly and pockets it.

I'm concerned why he's not in a mood today, and so quiet and patient. I'm wondering if he's paid off Jeff yet, or if that's why he's so quiet and even seems like he's slightly nervous. Oddly, without another word Terry stands and leaves the apartment, his boots echoing slightly as they leave down the hall. Christian peeks out from the room, making sure that Terry is gone and sits down in front of the tv, turning it on to cartoons.

The rest of our day goes by quietly, I'm vaguely aware that it starts raining outside and grows steadily darker. Before 8, I tell Christian I'm leaving, that if he has any problems to go find Old Lady Pat...He just stares back at me quietly. I kiss him goodbye and head out the door, locking it behind me.

* * *

Next Chapter: In the next coming weeks, Ella spins into a torrid affair with Carrick Grey, seemingly forgetting what she is, who she is and old promises she's made.


End file.
